Fighting a Losing War
by AeAe
Summary: She knew she should have stayed home. When had following Stiles into the woods ever been a good choice? Never. And now things would never be the same. Damn it, Stiles. [OC story, pairing undecided]
1. Chapter 1

_Thunk. Thunk. Tap. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Tap._

Groaning in frustration, Riley pushed herself up and out of bed to deal with the source of the annoying sounds outside her window. She hadn't been asleep, too busy tossing and turning and _trying_ to get there, but people— _person_ —throwing pebbles at her window never meant anything good.

With a few scoots and hops, she was off her bed and taking that last step to get to her window. She could have opened it with her eyes closed and still known precisely what she would see: Stiles with a handful of pebbles stolen from her neighbour's yard, looking every bit the little shit he always was, and Scott with a guilty look on his face as he scanned around to see if the idiots would be caught in her yard.

She was exactly right, of course. As much as she was tempted to just throw them back the finger and slide her curtain closed, Riley knew that it wouldn't stop the sounds of tiny rocks hitting her window and the walls around it. Stiles' aim had only barely improved from when he first decided to Romeo and Idiot it up outside her house in the middle of the night.

Riley unlocked and slid the window open just in time to watch disdainfully as one last pebble bounced off the wall next to her. Turning her unimpressed gaze to the boys below her, Riley leaned out of her window enough to talk down to them. "What do you want?"

Stiles dropped all his pebbles so he could properly flail his arms at her, trying to convey his excitement through his movements rather than volume. "There's a body in the woods!" He whisper-shouted up to her, and Riley had to admit that it peaked her interest.

"A dead one?" She asked, earning a huff from Stiles and an excited smack to Stiles' arm from Scott.

"Yes, a dead one! Am I surrounded by idiots here?!" Riley let Scott squawk in offense for them both, using her time that would usually be spewing out some dry remark to instead to pull herself back inside and begin locating a pair of pants.

Looks like she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

"We're seriously doing this?" Scott asked as he and Stiles exited the jeep, Riley a few frustrated moments behind as she ungracefully crawled out of the vehicle.

Shoving her hands into her sweater's pockets, she hurried her pace for a quick moment to align herself with her friends. "No, there's a tea party waiting for us ten trees in. You caught us," she dryly teased the boy, though Riley could admit that she was a bit nervous as well. Three unarmed teens wouldn't do well against a maniac who managed to cut a person in two, she bet.

Scott bumped his arm against hers in response to her teasing, but as usual, easily bowled on. "I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow," he confessed, earning a snort from Stiles as the three began to hike through the woods. Stiles took the lead while Scott lingered behind Riley. He was either prepared to help her back up if she tripped over a root or trying to make the girl feel safer by being between her two boys. Either way, Riley was thankful she wasn't the one with the dark of the forest at her back.

"Right! 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort," Stiles mocked, earning an unseen smirk from Riley. Scott and Stiles got the same amount of action at the games as she did watching it from the stands.

"No, because I'm playing this year," Scott was quick to defend, though even he sounded doubtful. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit!" Stiles glanced back, catching sight of Riley's silent laughter, and quickly turned his gaze back ahead of him. "Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one. Just don't start crying on us in the way of the flying-Riley of '05."

Riley rolled her eyes, though she instantly regretted it as she stumbled over a rock. She steadied herself quickly without the help of Scott's delayed hand at her elbow, but muttered a quick 'thanks' to the teen regardless. He gave no response and with a few strides, he was next to Stiles to continue their conversation. The brunette scowled at their backs and glanced behind her to the depth of the woods before picking up her own pace.

She did her best to look bored and careless as she followed the two, not wanting to be mocked for her fear. "Which half of the body are we looking for?" She drawled, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

"Huh. I didn't even think about that," Stiles admitted with a breathy chuckle as he powered on ahead again, giving Riley a chance to scoot herself into the middle of the makeshift line again. Her shoulders had only a second to relax before Scott voiced the question she herself had been worried about.

"And, uh—what if whatever killed the body is still out here?"

A pause. "Also something I didn't think about."

Riley's scowl deepened. Of course he hadn't. Stiles had always been the type to rush forward without thinking, something Riley hated about him in the way that everyone hates reflections of themselves in people. Left alone without Scott's admittedly only occasional rationality, Stiles and Riley had gotten into more than their share of trouble. In fact, they had likely gotten into enough trouble that the entire teenage population of Beacon Hills could rest easy knowing that there were people fucking up out there on their behalf.

"If I die out here, I'm going to haunt your ass so goddamn hard, Stilinski," she vowed as the trio began fumbling their way up the hill, Scott lagging behind to take a hit from his inhaler. Stiles was saved from needing to respond to her threats, however, as when they reached the top, he immediately had to flatten himself to the ground at the sight of a dozen other people with flashlights.

Riley was not as lucky, and could do nothing but wince as a flashlight was shone towards her bright red sweater. Busted. The person holding the flashlight quickly approached, and Riley wasn't surprised to see the Sheriff was the one shining a light in her face. He had a sixth sense for their shenanigans.

"Riley?" He questioned disapprovingly, thankfully lowering the beam of light from her face to her shoes. Knowing that the boy at her feet would be next to be discovered, Riley plastered on a cheery smile and kicked out to the side to hit his ribs.

"And Stiles!" She exclaimed over his yelp, and watched with satisfaction as the light was shone into his face instead. With all the usual Stilinski grace, he stumbled his way into standing and greeted his father with a wave.

"Dad! How ya doin'?"

"So, do you listen in to all my phones calls?" Sheriff Stilinski questioned his son with an air of defeated agitation to him, once again lowering his light.

Stiles let out a small laugh as if the question was preposterous. "No!" And after a moment, "Not the boring ones." Riley bit her lip to keep from smirking, but the sheriff knew her well enough to spot her amusement. He shot her a look which hadn't succeeded in wiping any sort of look off her face since she was twelve before returning his attention to his son.

"And where is your usual partner in crime?" He questioned him. Stiles immediately pointed his finger to Riley, who in turn pointed to herself, but the sheriff wasn't buying it. Taking a new route, Riley dropped her hand and instead clapped it onto Stiles' shoulder.

"He's at home, Sheriff. Tonight's date night, you know," Riley said with a wink. As expected, the man didn't buy it and began shining his flashlight through the trees in search of the last member of the troublesome trio.

"Scott! You out there?" He hollered into the silence, receiving no response but a howl of the wind. "Scott!" He yelled once more before giving up and turning his attention back to the two in front of him. He let out a sigh before closing the distance between them and putting a firm hand on Stiles' nape, beginning to lead them back out of the woods. Both he and Riley knew that the girl would follow silently, and so the girl did. "I'm going to walk you back to your car, and then we're all going to have a little talk about something called _invasion of privacy_."

"Kevin mentioned something like that when I read his diary," Riley quipped, always happy to tease the sheriff regardless of the situation she was in.

"And I'll mention something like that to Kevin after I take you home," the man retorted, wiping the grin off Riley's face. Fuck.

She _definitely_ wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

"I bought some lunch meats if you wanna make yourself a sandwich for lunch," Kevin offered as he bustled around the kitchen making himself breakfast the next day, not needing to turn around to notice Riley as she shuffled down the stairs into the kitchen. Their house was old with floors that creaked with every step, the stairs especially loud unless one knew where to step. Both knew that Riley had long since memorized those spots and simply didn't care to walk them first thing in the morning.

Riley mumbled an affirmative to Kevin's suggestion and walked near-blindly to the fridge to start making her lunch. She had been right the night before, and she barely got four hours of sleep after the scolding Kevin had given her. There were power points involved. It still wasn't particularly memorable.

For the next three minutes, the kitchen was full of noise but no conversation. The toaster ticked annoyingly as it prepared two bagels, one for Kevin and one for Riley, and the coffee machine made its usual angry bubbling noises. The two moved around each other easily as they prepared breakfast and lunch, and as the coffee machine beeped its finality and Riley went upstairs to get dressed, Kevin stayed to finish.

The routine was old now. The only time it was ever disturbed were the days Kevin left early or Riley slept in, and both could admit—only to themselves—that mornings weren't the same unless they were squeezing past the other to get to the cutlery drawer.

"Wear a sweater today," Kevin said up the stairs, and didn't wait for a response before grabbing his share of the consumables in the kitchen and leaving the house.

Riley couldn't remember the last time Kevin told her he loved her, or when she last said it to him. There were others ways of reminding each other, after all. And as Riley grabbed a cardigan to wear for the day, she said I love you, too.

* * *

"Don't tell me you started the strip show without me," Riley said in the place of a greeting as she approached Scott and Stiles half an hour later in front of the school, having witnessed from a few yard away Scott pulling his shirt up. Her humor was lost when she saw the blood-stained bandage covering up her friend's abdomen, however. "Holy shit, Scott," she swore in disbelief before raising her hand to smack Stiles upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?!" He hollered as he rubbed the back of his head, glaring at the girl while Scott let his shirt drop with a surprised laugh.

"That's your fault!" Riley accused, pointing a finger towards the now covered wound. "You brought poor, defenseless Scotty into the scary woods and left him there by his lonesome!" Scott's smile fell into a pout as he realized Riley was making fun of him, though Stiles couldn't seem to decide what emotion to show on his face. For now, it was a mix of outrage and amusement.

"I don't think I would have been much help against the _wolf_ that bit him," Stiles finally responded, mockery clear in his tone and finally, on his face. The group began moving towards the doors to the school, their pace decidedly leisurely next to the rushed ones of the freshman bolting towards the doors.

Riley's brows raised as she gave her attention back to Scott. "You think a wolf bit you?" She asked disbelievingly. "California hasn't had wolves for like fifty years."

"Sixty," Stiles corrected, quite needlessly in Riley's affronted opinion. The girl snorted and rolled her eyes in response to the smartass, and sensing an incoming verbal brawl or another smack to Stiles' head, Scott spoke up again.

"If you guys don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you that I found the body." At his words, Stiles flailed to a stop, his companions halting a well to avoid walking into a flying fist.

"Are you kidding me?" He asked, his smile wide enough to break his face and his eyes hopefully wide.

Scott shook his head and looked away from Stiles, not sharing his friend's excitement. "I wish I was. I'm going to have nightmares for a month."

"Maybe it was the dead body that bit you and now you're going to become a zombie," Riley offered up with a laugh, making Scott chuckle with her. Stiles, however, was too lost in his amazement to respond to the girl's humor, instead continuing on with his own train of thought.

"This is amazing. This has got to be the best thing that's happened to this town since—" his eyes strayed to the side and lit up in a way that both Scott and Riley were more than used to. A redhead was clearly coming this way, Riley thought, and was proved correct when Stiles stuttered his sentence in another direction. "—since the birth of Lydia Martin."

Riley raised a hand to cover her mouth, and therefore, her laugh, as Lydia continued her power strut right passed them without sparing the boy talking to her even a single glance. Poor Stiles had been in love with the girl since the third grade, which was a true show of dedication seeing as she had never given him even a second of her time. Riley had long since stopped feeling sorry for the boy's unrequited feelings.

"Lydia, you look… like you're going to ignore me…" Stiles trailed off and turned his attention back to his snickering friends. He scowled at the two and raised a hand to gesture between them. "You're the cause of this, you know. Dragging me down to your nerd depths," he accused.

Riley took that as her cue to roll her eyes and begin leading the group into the school once more, leaving Scott to good-naturedly agree with Stiles and follow. The lanky boy continued to complain as he trailed after the two, but both knew he didn't mean it. Besides, Riley thought to herself, she wasn't the one wearing a Star Wars t-shirt.

* * *

Riley expertly weaved her way through the hallway after first period, her backpack slung over one shoulder held there with a hand—too many times had it been shouldered off by some asshole who couldn't watch where they were going. Not needing to go to her locker, her feet led her instead towards Scott's, which was apparently a popular choice. Already she could see both Stiles and Abbie there, the three already in conversation.

"—beautiful people flock together," she heard Stiles say once she was within earshot, and she quickly took her chance to integrate herself into whatever they were talking about.

"Why am I hanging around you hobos, then?" She mocked. Stiles gave her a fake, breathy laugh and a scowl, but Scott seemed to be off in his own world. She followed his gaze to see Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittmore, and a girl she didn't recognize. A single eyebrow raised in confusion—usually Stiles was the one she caught staring at pretty girls. "What's up with him?" She inquired as she pointed a thumb to the boy in question.

"He's got a thing for the new girl. Allison something," Stiles explained and jerked his head towards the pretty girl talking to Lydia and Jackson. Riley let her own gaze linger, scrutinizing the brunette. She really was quite beautiful, with gorgeous curly hair Riley would kill for. Her own hair never looked so expertly styled, though that was likely because she was too tired in the morning to bother with a curling iron. She wondered if Allison had any tips for getting it done quickly? She didn't seem like the type who would want to spend an hour getting ready, so maybe— "Don't tell me we've lost you, too."

Her attention snapped back to Stiles who was giving her a knowing look, and Riley scowled at him. "Shut up," she replied intelligently before turning on her heel and beginning off in the direction of her next class, Stiles' laugh following her. The boy himself followed a second after, easily catching up to Riley with his much longer strides.

"They have a suspect in custody," he shared with her, and Riley turned her head just enough to give him a confused look. "For the body," he added on in explanation, and Riley's mouth parted in a small 'o'.

"I guess that means we can venture into the woods at night again without the fear of being cut in half," she mused, and realized her mistake a moment later as Stile's arm wrapped around her shoulder and his condescending coo reached her ear.

"Aw, I knew you were scared!"

The yelp he let out after Riley shoved him off of her and into a locker was music to her ears.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're kidding," Riley said into the phone, a grin working its way onto her face. Excited by the turn of events, Riley rolled onto her stomach and gave Scott her full attention rather than splitting it between him and the fascinating dots on her ceiling. "How dumb was the look on his face? Wait—helmet, right… how dumb do you _think_ the look on his face was?"

Scott's laugh echoed back to her through the line, though it was slightly muffled—Scott had probably shoved half his sandwich in his mouth while she was talking. She waited patiently for him to swallow, used to this behaviour. "You should have seen it, Riley. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch it."

"Man, I'm so proud of you! I knew all that training would pay off," she said eagerly. "I bet you'll make first line—no! Captain! Jackson can put that in his bottle and suck it." Riley laughed as she got up, heading towards her calendar to mark down the day Jackson Whittmore got shown up. It was important to take joy in the little things.

"I wouldn't go that far. First line, maybe, but that's all I really want anyway." Scott said bashfully, and Riley laughed once more.

"That's all you want, huh? What about that pretty girl in your English class?" She teased, and she could practically feel the heat of Scott's blush through the phone. "What was her name? Addison?"

He took the bait and wasted no time in correcting her. "Allison," he said, and Riley doubted that she was imagining the dreamy lilt to his voice. "Speaking of… something weird happened at practice."

"You being good at lacrosse isn't weird, Scott."

"Not that. I mean… I could hear things. Things I shouldn't have been able to hear. It happened in first period, too." He explained, his voice losing all of its happiness to be replaced with worry. Riley hummed thoughtfully in response, not sure what to say.

"What kind of things?"

"Like when I was in class, I could hear Allison on her phone outside the school. I could hear her like she was right next to me."

Riley's hand, poised with a pen to scribble onto her wall calendar, froze. "Are you messing with me right now?" She asked just to say that she had, because she already knew that Scott wasn't. His confirmation didn't make her believe him any more or less than she already had, and clearly she was too far into this friendship, as she hadn't considered doing anything but believing him for even a second. Thinking he heard a wolf in his panicked state was one thing, but Scott wasn't running through the woods anymore. Classrooms were good for daydreams, sure, but Riley didn't think Scott was dreaming.

"What do you think is happening?" She asked after a long silence. The one that followed was even longer, and the answer at the end of it was exactly what Riley was expecting but dreading.

"I don't know."

* * *

Riley tugged her jacket closed as she power walked her way to the field, already a few minutes late to the try-outs. After missing yesterday's and the amazing show that went down at it, the girl knew that she couldn't miss today's. And hopefully she'd get to see Jackson's dumb mug herself when Scott ran him into the ground.

When she reached the field, the bleachers already had students scattered on and around them, and the gaggle of teenage boys hoping to become a team were in the middle of the field in a huddle. _Looks like I won't be wishing them luck_ , she thought to herself as she marched up the bleachers and sat herself down. The metal was cold under her and she shivered, regretting not wearing something thicker than leggings that day.

Not even a moment after she sat down, the boys scattered with a series of shouts, clearly pumping themselves up for what was to come.

Riley found herself more attentively watching the try-outs than ever before—usually her boys were barely scraping by and were admittedly uninteresting… today was much, much different, however. Scott was powering by all the other players, dodging with a grace Riley _knew_ he didn't possess. And as he flipped over two defensemen and scored a goal, she couldn't even stand up and cheer like everyone else was doing.

She was frozen in her seat, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide. She had practiced with Scott until she literally wanted to die at least twice a week all summer, and while he was better, he wasn't… _that_. That wasn't her Scott. Her Scott tripped over his own feet and could barely make it up two flights of stairs before he needed to make use of his inhaler.

"McCall! Get over here!" Coach Finstock hollered into the celebrating group of boys, and it took Scott no time to break away from the crowd to jog over to the man. Around her, everyone went silent as they waited to hear what the man would say, but Riley was still frozen, staring at the boy wonder.

Suddenly around her, the crowd once again burst into cheers, and Riley could only assume that Scott was being told her made the team. His eyes locked onto her in the crowd, the only person not jumping for joy, and she only just managed to force a smile and a thumbs up.

* * *

Riley waited impatiently outside of the change room, her phone squeezed tightly in her hand and her foot tapping the ground without rhythm. She had texted Stiles as soon as Scott had run back out to the field and demanded he come talk to her after he showered, and she knew he would check his phone as soon as he got to his locker. Teenagers were good for that.

When Stiles came out, though, he clearly had not showered. Riley's nose wrinkled up but seeing as Stiles was wasting no time, she wouldn't either. "Something's going on with Scott," she said quickly as she walked towards him, grabbing his arm to begin dragging him down the hall. "He can barely flip on a trampoline, let alone on solid ground."

Stiles tripped as he was dragged but quickly managed to match his pace with Riley's. He was gnawing on his bottom lip, a bad habit they both shared, and looked even more worried than her. "There was wolf hair on the body," he muttered, and Riley found herself freezing for the second time that day.

Stiles walked on only two steps before he realized she wasn't with him, and when he turned back, Riley saw that his eyes mirrored the panic in hers. "What the fuck is going on?"

She saw his hesitance as clearly as the argument he had going on within his head, and it took everything in her not to snap at him to tell her what was going on. After nearly a full twenty seconds, Stiles spoke again. "I had just been joking when I said it to Scott yesterday, but I… I think Scott may actually be a werewolf."

"What the fuck is going on?" She repeated in a choked whisper before powering forward once more, leaving Stiles to scamper after her. "Werewolves don't exist, Stiles. They're fairy tales," she argued to him, but she knew she was really arguing herself. The things happening to Scott weren't natural, she knew that, but she wasn't ready to turn to the idea of _super_ natural.

"I know that! But it's starting to be the only theory that makes any sense," Stiles claimed as they approached his Jeep, Riley walking around to the passenger seat as Stiles threw his bag into the back. "Unless you've got some better idea?" He challenged as he got into the driver's seat, slamming the door closed after him.

Riley was silent as they pulled out of the parking lot, only speaking up after three minutes to say, "Turn here. We're going to need a lot of coffee."

* * *

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Riley jerked awake, papers scattering as the line of photos Stiles' had placed over her was disturbed by her sitting up. Stiles made a pained noise, clearly upset that his make-shift desk was back to being a person, but Riley was too busy rubbing her eyes and grumbling to pay him any attention.

Seeing as Riley wasn't going to get it, Stiles stood up and crossed the room to pull open his door. On the other side was a smiling Scott, and Stiles quickly beckoned him in. "You gotta see this," he claimed as he closed the door behind him. "We've been reading; websites, books, all this information!" He said as he began frantically picking up the papers dropped to the floor around his bed with Riley.

Meanwhile, Scott sat himself down at the foot of the bed, handing Riley the coffee she had requested he bring over. She took it with a grateful hum and sat up properly, running her free hand through her hair to try to tame what was surely a bird's nest after hours of nearly pulling it out in frustration. "Is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott asked, turning his attention back to Stiles as the jerky boy scooted his desk chair over to the bed.

"No, they're still questioning people," Riley said with a yawn. Scott looked between her and Stiles for a moment with an odd look on his face, which Stiles quickly stamped out.

"No, no! Look, do you remember the joke from the other day?" He started, looking at Scott with pitying eyes. "Not a joke anymore," he admitted, looking down to the papers in his hands. At Scott's silence his head raised back up, his voice becoming a bit more frenzied as he tried to make Scott understand. "The wolf, the bite in the woods… I started doing all this reading…"

Suddenly he shot up, all the information running through his head making him too itchy to sit still. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?" He asked Scott, who stared up at him in confusion.

"It's a signal," Riley answered from behind Scott, making him turn to look at her. "When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack," she said slowly—far too slowly for Stiles' liking.

"That means there could have been a whole pack of them around," he picked up, drawing Scott's attention back to him. Though Riley couldn't see his face, she could hear in his voice the awe he felt at this new information.

"A whole pack of wolves?" He asked, causing Stiles to shift his eyes around and swallow down his energy as he delivered the fact of the matter.

"No," he started, and his body finally stopped moving. "Werewolves."

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott asked incredulously as he stood up, clearly intending to leave now that he knew his friends didn't want him for anything serious. "You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

Stiles jerked forward and placed a hand on Scott's chest, stopping him from leaving. "I saw you on the field, Scott. Okay, w-what you did, it wasn't just _amazing_ , alright? It was impossible." He ended with a breathy laugh, and Riley felt the air in the room change from frantic to tense in less than a second.

"I made a good shot," Scott defended.

"You made an _incredible_ shot," Riley corrected, slowly placing her coffee down onto Stiles' nightstand. "The way you moved… people can't just suddenly do what you did overnight, Scott. And don't think I didn't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore. And your hearing—"

"Okay!" Scott cut her off, clearly frustrated by the way this conversation was turning. "I can't think about this right now, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Stiles burst. "What?! No! The full moon's tonight, don't you get it?!"

"What are you trying to do?" Scott yelled back. "I-I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect, why are you trying to ruin it?"

"We're trying to help," Riley said softly from her place on the bed, ending the shouting match.

"You're cursed, Scott. And the moon doesn't cause you to just physically change, it's also when your blood lust will be at its peak." Stiles explained as he sat back down into his chair, now looking up at Scott who gazed back at him with disbelief.

"Blood lust," Scott repeated blankly.

"Yeah, your urge to kill," Stiles clarified with an almost indifferent shrug, his friend's negative energy drowning him.

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles," Scott mocked, though the words struck something in Riley's heart.

"You have to cancel that date, Scott." Riley said clearly, reaching out for Scott's bag to get his phone for him. All the attention in the room was immediately drawn to her, and while she already knew Stiles approved of her choice, Scott looked nearly murderous. "I'm gonna call her right now, tell her you're not feeling well—"

He moved before she could react, a hand pressing against the top of her chest to push and pin her against the bed. "No, give it to me!" He shouted in her face, a fist pulled back and ready to strike her.

If she hadn't believed what she and Stiles had discovered before, she would now. Scott had never raised a hand to her, not even to play fight. He had always been careful with her, always aware that she was smaller than him and bruised like a peach. Her Scott would never hurt her. This stranger of a werewolf, however…

Time was frozen as they stared into each other's eyes, Riley's wide with fear and Scott's squinted in anger. She counted ten beats of her frantic heart before he let her go, instead letting out a shout of anger and lashing out at the bed next to her shoulder.

She could hear blood rushing in her ears and Scott's heavy panting, and she didn't want to hear it as Scott finally whispered a shocked apology. "I-I gotta go get ready for the party," he mumbled before grabbing the phone that had fallen from Riley's limp hands as well as his backpack and making a speedy exit. As the door shut behind him Stiles finally burst into action once more, just about throwing himself across the room so that he could pull Riley back up into a sitting position.

He held her up with his hands on her arms, and Riley couldn't bring herself to make a joke about him examining her chest, not when she knew why he was doing it. Once assured that Scott hadn't really hurt her, Stiles pulled Riley to his chest and hugged her tightly, both of them still shaking from fear. Neither said anything for a long while, both consumed by thoughts of what their best friend had become.

It looked like they had a party to crash.


End file.
